


Fatherly Concern

by LovelyPlantPrincess



Series: Live a Little [6]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I go down with this ship, Nothing but Clay & Jax fluff, Protective Papa Bear Clay is my bby, and also Clay/Gemma fluff, mentions of parental neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 01:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6833803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyPlantPrincess/pseuds/LovelyPlantPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has every right to be a little bit protective. For god's sakes, it's his son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatherly Concern

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't forget about this series. I promise - there's just... a lot happening with finals and stuff. But two new posts today, so yay :D

**Clarence ‘Clay’ Morrow**

“Honey, how would you feel if we invited your parents to take Jax trick-or-treating?”

That one sentence could have possibly shattered Clay Morrow’s entire illusion of reality, if he wasn’t careful. It was a chilly October evening, and Clay was busy at the kitchen table - carving ghoulish faces into pumpkins to set outside on their porch. Gemma was at the stove - Jackson perched on her hip and threading blonde strands of hair through the hoops of her earrings - stirring the stew she’d made specifically for the family dinner occurring that night.

If she weren’t actually considering bringing his asshole parents around his one-year-old child, Clay would say that Gemma never looked more gorgeous than in that moment.

“What?” he sputters, once his tongue catches up to his thoughts. “Not no, but _hell_ no. Why the _fuck_ would I want to do that?”

Gemma frowns and brings the soup ladle to her lips, blowing gently before tasting it. Her frown deepens as she reaches into the cabinet for a spice, but he doesn’t think the taste of her soup is what has her making that face.

“ _Because_ , we have that Adult Costume party that Luann’s director is hosting,” she reminds. Clay makes a small ‘o’ with his mouth. That was right - the sexy costume party. They couldn’t exactly take Jackson there - there was no way they were taking their baby around drugs, alcohol, and the raunchy adult themes that would be there. It was fine at the Clubhouse, because that was family and they knew to be courteous. This would be a bunch of strangers. “I would ask Mary and Piney to babysit again, but they’re going to the party too and Jax just can’t go stay with Mary’s parents like Opie is. _Neeta_ is taking her kids to Stockton to go trick-or-treating, and I’m not going to let Jackson go to Stockton with a bunch of strangers. I know your parents live in Eureka - it wouldn’t be so bad to let Jax go stay there for a weekend… would it?”

“Why can’t they stay with _your_ parents? Rose and Nate live _right_ on the outskirts of Charming,” Clay points out. Gemma rolls her eyes.

“Because, my mother explicitly told me she wants nothing to with me, you or my bastard child,” she scoffs. Clay narrows his eyes at her as she turns the heat down on the soup and heads over to where he sits at the table. “Besides, I thought you said you and your parents reconciled.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I want my son around them,” he mutters, stabbing into the pumpkin again. Gemma rolls her eyes again and shifts Jackson around so that he’s facing Clay while sitting in her lap. The baby reaches blindly for one of the carving tools Clay had been using, and his father quickly snatches the sharp tools away from his grasp.

“Then you want to cancel the party? Clay, Luann and I have spent the _past two months_ helping Ricarlo put this party on - I can’t just _not_ go. _You_ can skip out on going, but then you’ll have to let me go to a party with a ton of pornstar actors and recruiters, wearing this skimpy police officers costume,” she points out. “You never know, maybe I’ll get a good filming gig.”

“Your son is less important than a party?” Clay scoffs, reaching across and tickling Jackson’s stomach. The blonde giggles and kicks in his mother’s lap, and Clay grins at him.

“No, if it were something more serious, I would drop this party like a hot potato,” she explains, slightly hurt that he would even stoop that low. “But, it’s just trick-or-treating. That’s it. We drop him off Saturday evening, and then Sunday morning we pick him up before it’s time for his afternoon nap. _And_ , doesn’t your sister still live there? If you don’t trust your parents, at least trust her.”

Clay sighs and runs a finger along his son’s cheek, smearing some pumpkin pulp there. Jackson giggles again and reaches for his father, bouncing happily in Gemma’s lap.

“I don’t know, baby,” he murmurs, taking a towel and wiping the pulp from his son’s face. As soon as the napkin is discarded, he accepts his son into his arms. Jackson snuggles into his father and Clay grips the cloth of his onesie.

“Please, Clay. We both could use the break - we’ve been at his hip since birth, and I don’t remember the last time I had a drink. Could we please just let your parents - or your sister - babysit for a weekend? _Please_?” Gemma is very provocative with her pleading - her hazel eyes wide, and her lips forming a plump pout that he wants to kiss away. Jackson - completely unaware of what’s happening - gurgles and slaps his hand against the table - sending pulp and seeds flying everywhere.

The mess hits Clay in the face and gets into Gemma’s hair, but Jackson doesn’t seem to notice that he’s caused trouble. He laughs merrily and goes back to slapping the table, causing an even bigger problem than the one before.

“Damnit, Jax,” Clay mutters, handing his son back to Gemma so he can clean up the mess. Gemma raises an ‘I-told-you-so’ eyebrow as she uses one hand to pick pumpkin seeds out of her hair, and Clay sighs. “Fine babe. _One weekend_.”

* * *

 Clay’s parents live an house that just barely misses the mark of being a mansion. Gemma herself came from a nice home, but she’s never seen a house that big and elegant. Judging from the rows of windows, there are at _least_ four stories. Two giant oak trees shroud the perfectly mowed lawn, and there’s even a fountain made from the statue of a _baby_. She’s a bit surprised - the way Clay always talked about his parents, they were abusive monsters that kept children chained up in their rooms and fed them a square of stale bread once a day.

Or, maybe they were, and Gemma was just judging based on outward appearances.

Clay himself is struggling with the fact that he’s actually walking up this path again. When he’d left for the military all those years ago, he thought he’d never have to return to this place again. And after his parents and siblings left his wedding that night, he didn’t think he’d ever _see them_ again. He’d never even considered his son meeting his parents - up until three weeks ago, when Gemma brought it up, the concept had been so foreign to him.

When Gemma leans forward to ring the doorbell, Clay clutches his son tighter to his chest. He smooths down his son’s costume - an adorable little bumblebee, according to Colleen and Luann - and almost considers telling Gemma to forget it. But then the door swings open.

Clay has never been more grateful for his little sister than in that moment. Florence Morrow comes to the door instead of either of his parents, and it’s possibly the greatest moment of relief he’s ever experienced.

Florence’s eyes immediately widen at the sight of her brother, and she giggles in excitement before giving him a quick side-hug.

“Clarence! I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were gonna let little Jackson stay here,” she admits sheepishly, curling a blonde strand of her hair around her finger. Gemma snickers at the use of his full name and he uses his free hand to pinch her side.

“It’s _just_ for tonight and tomorrow morning,” he says pointedly, glaring at his wife. Gemma sticks her tongue out at him and hands over the baby bag. Florence eagerly swings the bag over her shoulder and then extends her hands for Jackson.

Clay brings his son closer to his chest, and looks between Gemma and his little sister. He realizes suddenly that he’s scared to let his baby out of his sight.

He was able to leave his child when it came to the Club and Club business, but only because he knew Gemma had him - and if she didn’t, Mary or Neeta _did_. People that he trusted, and people he knew wouldn’t take his son away from him if the chance rose. He also always knew dropping in and seeing his son was a ten minute drive away at all times - not the three hours it was from Charming to Eureka.

It terrifies him that his son will be in an entirely different city than he is, even if it’s only for one night.

Then suddenly, a thought so chilling and terrifying that it makes him blanche hits him. His mother had always told him he’d never amount to shit when he was a kid - that she hoped he never bred because she didn’t want someone in the image of him walking freely around Earth, polluting the air with their arrogance and stupidity. There’s the very real possibility that she meant every word of it. And if that’s true… if she didn’t see him as a fit human being to raise a child…

“Florence could you give us a minute?” Gemma asks kindly, seeing the panic bubble up in her husband’s eyes. Florence looks between the couple before shrugging and taking the baby bag inside the house. “Clay, baby, what’s wrong?”

“They’re gonna take him from me -- either by blood or by legalities but they're gonna take him. How are you not panicking? They’re gonna take our son, Gem,” he growls, leaning against the banister on the porch. Jackson, sensing the tension, begins to whine and Gemma immediately reaches for him. Clay snatches away from her, and plops down on the porch swing - rocking Jackson gently back into peace.

“Clay, _stop it_ ,” Gemma snaps, fed up with his paranoia. “ _No one_ is taking our child - I’ll kick ass and draw blood before I let it happen. It’s one night. They’re gonna take him to get candy-”

“Why does a baby need candy anyways? He’s still on soft foods!” he asks incredulously. Gemma sighs and goes to sit next to him on the porch swing. She presses against his side, leans her head on her shoulder and places her hand on his knee.

“Baby, it’s the principle of it. Of course he doesn’t _need_ candy - I don’t even know what we’re gonna do with the candy he gets. But _we_ need a _break_. I love our son to death, both you and him are my entire world. But the only time we’ve had away from him since my giving birth was Otto’s birthday party - and that was when he was barely a few weeks. Let’s just have a good time - for one night - before we go back to being parents, alright?”

Clay stops rocking the swing as he considers this. He hadn’t really thought about it much - he’d been so caught up in his fears and anxiety that he hadn’t considered Gemma’s probable exhaustion. She was a full-time mother - the majority of her time was spent with an infant, especially since Clay was rarely at home during the day. And even for someone as mature and accepting as Gemma, she was still only twenty. She still had the urge to have a little fun every now and then, and who was he to deny her that indulgence? Especially since she was a damn good mother and wife - she put all of her energy into making sure Jackson and Clay were happy and healthy at all times.

Relenting, Clay gives Jackson a gentle kiss on the forehead before he hands the baby over to Gemma. She smiles at Clay and gives him a gentle peck on the corner of his mouth.

“One night, baby. We can do this,” she encourages, before disappearing into the house. She returns after about ten minutes, followed by Florence who has Jackson on her hip. Speaking of whom, he plays with the tassles on her princess cap eagerly and occasionally bounces in her arms - giving her a nudge to the ribs.

“Don’t worry Clarence,” Florence assures. “Mom and Dad don’t even know he’s here, and they won’t know for sometime. They’re out of town for the next two months.”

Clay can’t help but feel the relief hit him like a pound of bricks. There was no reason for him not to believe his sister - even in his childhood, his parents would randomly go off for weeks or months on end and leave them home alone. It was very plausible that she wasn’t just making things up to put his mind at ease.

Jackson would be safe.

“See, Clay?” Gemma teases, lacing her fingers with his and pulling him away from the porch. He waves at Florence and Jackson a final time before watching them disappear into the house. “There is nothing for you to worry about.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he huffs, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Still… I have every right to have a little fatherly concern.”

“Of _course_ you do, baby.”


End file.
